Cold Silver in His Eyes
by littleviolentone
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione are captured and brought to Malfoy Manor, where a conflicted and guilt ridden Draco is forced to watch as his aunt Crucios his former classmate. But no longer being able to stomach the living hell that is his life Draco helps them escape, and is dragged back with the Golden Trio by a bloody well-meaning Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

**OK so this my first fic and I did work hard so please be nice, but other than that I welcome honesty and Im open to ideas. I apologize for any mis spelled words but I'm a horrible speller. Other than that all you need to know is that in my story Ron hasn't left the gang yet but they have killed the locket horcrux.**

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**AHAHAHAAH! YOU THINK _I _OWN THIS!? HA! MAKES ME LAUGH!**

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She was bleeding on my carpet.

A year or so ago I would have been outraged at this destruction of property, but now as I stood there watching my aunt carve _mudblood_ into her arm, something inside me snapped.

How often had I called her that? How often had I joked with my so called "friends" that all mudbloods should be branded so that we _Purer_ folk would know whom to avoid? And in a cruel twist of fate my wish was granted in the form of one Hermione Granger.

Since before the start of term last year, I had known I was wrong.

I had known when the dark mark has been forcibly burned into my arm.

I had known when my own father had sat and watched as I was ordered to become a murderer, and that the price of my failure would not only be my life but my mothers' as well.

And when I stood atop the astronomy tower, out of my mind with fear, and my would be victim offered me mercy I had known.

I had known how wrong I was, but I had known too late.

Dumbledore died that night , that he hadn't died by my hand did nothing to ease the guilt that had suffocated me since. I told myself that it didn't matter; my beliefs on blood purity. I had made my bed now I would damn well burn in it, and there was no one but myself to blame.

Even so I longed for some escape, so desperate was I that I'd considered turning Avada Kadavra on myself more than once. There never had been a problem I couldn't run from, the only thing that stayed my hand now was my mother and her fragile hold on reality. Try as I might I couldn't leave her.

When Grayback brought in the golden trio, I panicked. As long as Potter was alive there was a chance that the Dark Lord would be slain, a chance that my hell could end. My pride took a blow when I had finally admitted to myself that Potter gave me hope. It was in a vain attempt to keep that hope alive that I found myself risking the extremely real possibility of a painful death at the hands of my aunt, and lied to protect Potter.

I saw his eyes go wide with shock that I was internally mirroring, but I stuck to my story. My thin cover was believed only due Potter's massivly swolen head. While my lies may have bought Potter a few moments, there was no disguising Weasley or Granger. But it wasn't untill Aunt Bella saw the sword that the shit truly hit the fan.

The thought that I had never seen my aunt more unbalanced was followed swiftly by mind-numbing terror that so simple an objecct as a sword could take the epitome of madness, and push it even further.

Wormtail took Potter and Weasley, kicking and screaming, away as Aunt Bella dragged a terrified Granger to the center of the room.

When the first Crucio hit I didn't flinch, I didn't even blink, but at the sound of her screams I swore I could fell blood pooling behind a well practiced mask of indiffrence.

My aunt struck agian and agian screaming questions about the sword that Granger often didn't have time to answer between the rapid curses. One of the few answers she did give was an agonized "I don't know!", which due to her blasted reputation no one would believe.

Granger always knew, saying she didn't simply wouldn't fly.

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Every scream that tore it's self from her throat cut into me and burned like the physical wound of basalisk venom. She writhed under my aunt's wand while her cries drove me to a state of madness that left me a bloody, quivering, heap inside my own unmoving body, and after so long I couldn't take it anymore.

I had pulled out my wand and cast a non-verbal sheild charm around Granger before I'd fully concieved the thought.

The shield didn't stop the pain, but it lessened it enough for Granger to notice, and when she swung her pale, broken, face to the side and her empty eyes focused on mine, they widened in confused realization.

She knew.

More the worse for her, so did Aunt Bella. Maybe not how the spell had lost it's potency, but enough to know it was time to change tactics. I watched in horror as my aunt drew from her side an ever present six inch knife that took the place of her wand in her cruel, twisted, fingers and I knew what came next.

_You're a bastard, Draco Malfoy,_ my mind sneered to me _You made all of this possible. Aren't you proud, aren't you happy this girl you once wished dead can now be punished properly, like she, and every mudblood deserves? Congratulations! Your wish is granted, now watch her die._

When the first few drops of her blood appeared on her arm, I went cold. I don't know what I expected, for her blood to actually have dirt in it, or look muddy? But the exact shade of red that ran in my "superior" veins was not it.

The last "d" was halfway done before I realized what my aunt was spelling, and as I stood there bombarded by her screams, a strange, rather random thought came to mind;

She was bleeding on my carpet.

As I stood there watching my aunt carve _mudblood_ into her arm, something inside me snapped.

Potter and Weasley, having somehow escaped, stormed in wands drawn only to be met by Aunt Bella digging the point of her knife into the soft flesh below Granger's chin.

I didn't wait, while her back was turned I shouted my spell and her wand flew from her side. As soon as the spell left my lips Aunt Bella turned 'round dumping Granger to the ground, to stare at me with a mixture of fury and disbelief.

For several agonizing moments, no one moved, not untill my aunt threw her kinfe with inhuman speed, in my direction.

I braced for the weight of the knife and the pain, but neither my mother appeared before me taking the deathblow that should have been mine.

I sank to the ground with her in my arms, my mind not comprehending the scarlet stain that spread across her chest like a bib.

"Draco...," she whispered, and by her voice I could tell she'd given up, "I love..", she stuggled a few moments longer to finish the sentence and then went still. Desperately I looked to my father for help but saw only a disgusted sneer on his face.

In the chaos that followed I remember Bellatrix's dreanged cries of; " Traitor, ... My sister... Your fault!", followed by a crack, I later realized was the sound of a house elf apperating in, and Potter and Weasley dragging a bloody Granger behind me towards the sound. Bellatrix lunged at me but I pushed her away and she slid across the floor, her bloody knife once more in hand. There was shouting behind me and as my aunt got to her feet and drew back the knife once more, I felt a slim arm around my shoulders and the weight of a body on my back.

Then there was nothing, just grief, blood that wasn't mine, and the dizzy feeling of side-long apperition.

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**So whadd'ya think? Like I said this my first time doing this so be honest, but don't be mean. I appologize again for any spelling mistakes I did my best to catch them but I've got no beta so I'm on my own here, And it's not my forte to begin with. All the same PLEASE REVIEW ::::DDD ~ littleviolentone 3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank You so much to everyone who reviewed! 20 respect points to each! Alright so here's the next chapter in Hermiones pov this time. I know the chapters are a little short but I promise I will make them longer once Im past the exposition. ENJOY!**

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**disclaimer: Do I seem Brittish to you?**

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I didn't let go of Draco's shoulders until I felt my knees hit the ground. My body was still convulsing with the aftershocks of the curse and my arm was burning. I knew before I tried that I couldn't stand so I slumped to the ground, rolling off Draco's back as I fell.

From where I lay I could see where my blood had ruined the collar of his shirt,_ mudblood._

I suddenly remembered a moment in fourth year; I had tripped in the corridor and crashed into him. He had shrieked and yelled like I had burned him, now though, covered in the blood that he had once proclaimed so vile, he did nothing. Just sat there staring at his mothers' blood on his hands.

Harry was giving Dobby instructions, but the only words I could make out were "Help.", and the names; "Bill and Fluer"

Ron hadn't lost his hold on me since I twisted out of his arms to grab Draco and insure he came with us. He had managed to keep hold of one of my hands, but now that we were relatively safe he kneeled beside me and cradled me in his arms. My face was pressed into his broad chest and I gulped down the soothing scent of pine smoke and spearmint that I associated with Ron. His wide hands were pressing me to close but I didn't care as he rocked me back and forth.

It took a few moments of this before it registered in my pain addled brain that Ron was murmuring hoarsely into my hair.

"….nearly lost hold of you, and all so you could save _him._ Merlin, Hermione your worth a million of him. There's so much blood, oh gods, this is my fault, all my fault. Shh love, shh you'll be alright now, you'll be alright." He said the last like a prayer that if prayed often enough would be granted.

I tried to tell him that, for some unknown reason, Draco had saved me. But as the words turned into whimpers as they left my lips, and Ron held me tighter in response.

At the edge of my vision I could see Harry pulling two wands out of Draco's hands, and still he did nothing.

I heard another voice then, far away but getting closer. The timbre of the voice was familiar but my ability to distinguish words had once again faded. In one swift movement Ron stood with me in his arms and ran down the hill toward a little spec in the distance that I assumed was a house of some sort.

The rapid staccato of Ron's steps did nothing for my scorched nerve endings, but my moans of protest only served to make him run faster. My eyes just barely cleared the edge of Ron's shoulder and beyond it I could make out through the bouncing Harry and Bill walking a nearly catatonic Draco down the hill in our wake.

Then suddenly my jumping view of a bleached landscape was replaced by a jumping view of a kitchen, that quickly blurred into a hallway. The painful jostling got worse as we ran up some stairs and then stopped altogether as Ron laid me down on a bed with no small amount of panic.

"Don't cry Hermione, please _please_ don't cry." Ron begged

Was I crying? I honestly couldn't tell, but the fact that I couldn't feel my face didn't seem to be a good sign. Fluer swept into the room carrying a massive tray of potion bottles which she set on the night stand at the side of the bed.

"What can I do?" croaked Ron as soon as she straightened up.

"You can stay out of my way." She didn't even spare him a glance as she inspected the morbid graffiti on my arm then turned and began sifting through her potions.

Ron was going to argue, I could see it in his eyes and I couldn't handle anymore anger. With the last of my feeble strength I managed two words.

"Ron,….go."He looked shocked and then hurt but he nodded his head and went quietly from the room.

"I am going to give you something to make you sleep _ma chere._" Fleur said gently before she held a bottle of blue potion to my lips and poured.

As I let the potion take effect I hoped that where ever Harry had put Draco he was alright. He had been suffering for a long time I could tell by one look in his eyes.

The room began to go dark as I thought of his eyes, they always seemed so cold. Maybe it was the silver in them? Yes that was it! The cold silver in his eyes.

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**More Reviews = More Chapters so please be generous!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed. I'm sorry I haven't updated but I had fianals and then a bunch of theatre stuff and then my parents took my computer. But enough excuses! I'm here now with a brand new, much longer, chapter so hopefully you all won't kill me:-)!**

**p.s. Im typing and uploading this whole thing out on my tablet so there may be a few mistakes.**

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Disclaimer: Not mine, I know shocking right?

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The next few moments passed in a blur, the weight on my back was gone, I was dimly aware of something wet on my chest, but I didn't see what it was. I couldn't look away from my hands.

They were covered in blood, _my mother's blood_. In my head my mother's death was replaying like a _Daily Prophet_ photograph.

Her rushing forward to shield me from her sisters knife. Her brown eyes staring wide into mine as I caught her. Her stuttering unfinished declaration of love before she went so horribly still, and then again and again.

I could hear Weasley behind me talking under his breath to Granger.

" You're already half dead and then you go and risk your life again just to save him! You're worth a million of him Hermione!"

There was a painful sound from Granger that pulled on something near my heart before I shut them out. I felt Weasley brush past me, and from the corner of my eye I could see that he was clutching her to his chest. Potter appeared at my side and disarmed me, not that my wand would have been terribly useful to me just then.

I could sense someone else near me but I didn't look, couldn't look away from my hands.

"Stand up, Malfoy." I was vaguely surprised at the lack of anger in his tone, in its place was place there was a calm sort of wariness.

The other man with Potter didn't wait for me to comply, but hauled me roughly from my knees and prodded me in the shoulder to start me walking.

"Easy, Bill." came Potters' voice.

" But Harry," said the other man, Bill, "He's a Malfoy, a deatheater. The one who tormented you and my brother at school. He's-"

"He's also the one who lied to his father to protect me, and the one who disarmed Bellatrix Lastrange to save Hermione!" the fierceness with which he defended me, the fact that he was defending me at all, should have shocked me, but I was numb.

There was a long silence then, broken only by the sound of our footsteps before Bill replied.

"Harry… I won't try and tell you what you saw there but, but… this could all be an act. It wouldn't be the first time they've used a double agent. Think of Snape."

"I don't think so Bill," said Potter, "I was there that night, in the Astronomy Tower. He lowered his wand, he's not a death eater by choice, I'm certain. And there at the Manor, he could have outed me, but he didn't and he could have just let Bellatrix kill Hermione. It would have been a lot easier for him, but he chose do disarm her instead and she tried to kill him for it. The only reason he's still alive is because Narcissa jumped in front of the knife.

"And like you said; Malfoy's been tormenting us for years, he'd be the worst possible choice for a double agent, and what sort of plan is it to murder a member of one of the most prominent pure blood families in you know who's circle?"

"But, Harry, after everything he's done-"

"I'm not saying I trust him but, Dumbledore gave him a chance and so will I."

Bill didn't say anything in response and I was greatfull. I wasn't sure how many more revalations I could take.

I was walked into a room that held only a bed and a chair, and then I was left alone. On the other side of the door I could hear them muttering Locking and protection spells, then nothing. A soundproofing spell I supposed.

I looked slowly around the room before my eyes were drawn back down to my bloodstained hands. Shaking, I wiped my red palms down the front of my trousers in an attempt to rid myself of the blood, and then again and again. I could feel her blood eating away at my skin, as if it were taking revenge for the body that once held it.

A sob broke from my chest as I continued to try and scrape away the blood. I got to my feet in a panic, wringing and wiping my hands while I paced the room.

It wouldn't come off,_ it wouldn't come off! _Gods it burned, and I scraped at my skin, but when I looked again it was still stained with her blood. _My mothers' blood!_ It was my fault. She was gone and it was my fault.

The blood wouldn't come off, and I deserved it, because I was the reason it was there. I could see my mothers' face in my mind as she died. Her scared brown eyes burning me alive as I backed into a corner and slid down the wallto escape her.

"I'm sorry" I said to the face that had burned its self onto the back of my eyelids."I'm sorry mother, I'm so sorry!"

The apperition didn't react to my appology, just continued to stare at me.

"It's my fault! My fault, my fault..."

She kept watching me and the blood wouldn't come off.

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It wasn't untill I felt a cool hand on my arm that I became aware that a significant amount of time had passed. I blinked a few times to focus on the blurry figure in front of me.

My eyes took in pale blond hair surrounding a round face that ended in a pointed chin, and a pair of dreamy eyes. Lovegood? But she was imprisoned back at the Manor, how could she be here?

"Harry and Ron broke us all out. Dean, Mr. Ollivander, Griphook, and I, I mean." she said

I blinked in surprise, was she reading my mind?

"Oh no! I was never any good at legilimencey, you were speaking out loud." she said with a vague smile.

"Shit."

"Yes, it's quite shocking isn't it?" she paused politley for my answer, but I didn't respond.

"Would you like me to take care of that?" she pointed to my hands,"It won't take the ghosts away, but it's easier to move on without the reminder."

It was the shock of her words more than anything else that caused me to nod my head in consent. What could she possibly know about ghosts?

For the first time I noticed that Lovegood wasn't alone. Next to her she had a large bowl and pitcher, both of match ceramic, and a handfull of rags.

"Normaly I'd just use a scourgify to clean this up, but they took my wand when they brought me to your house." she said it so calmly, with no trace of malice.

I didn't know what to say to that, but Lovegood didn't seem to need a response. Instead she gently took my left hand and held it over the bowl before taking the pitcher and pouring warm water over my skin. I watched as she wet a rag in the bowl and started gently rubbing the blood away. Every now and then she would dunk the rag in the reddening water before wringing it out and returning to my hand. When she switched over to my other hand I couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Why are you doing this?" I winced at how hoarse my voice sounded.

"Because Harry told me what you did for them and about your mother, so I owe you." she said simply

"How do you figure that?" I asked

"It's very simple, Draco," the use of my given name took me by surprise, "I would die for my friends, and I was very likely going to. But by saving them you saved me. Not directly, perhaps, but you enabled them to do it, so I owe you."

All I could do was blink at her in shock. Of all the things she could have said, that was not something I'd expected.

"So the fact that I'm a deatheater doesn't bother you?"

"You're not a deatheater." she said.

I don't know why, but I felt he need to convince her that I was dangerous. I took my hands back from her and rolled up the sleeve on my left arm, exposing my mark.

"what do you call this then?"

She held my gaze and wrapped her hand around my wrist.

"I ment that anyone who was truely a deatheater wouldn't have been able to do what you did." I wanted to argue that the mark made me a true deatheater, but before I could open my mouth she was speaking again.

"Would you like me to get the blood off your neck, now?"

"What?" was the reply I managed.

"You have blood all down your neck and chest, Hermiones' I imagine. Her arm was bleeding quite a lot when Ron brought her in and Harry said she was the one who brought you here."

I looked down at myself in shock, how had I not noticed Grangers' blood before now? I was almost painted in it!

"Well you were in rather a state of shock when you walked in."

Damn, I was speaking aloud again wasn't I?

"Yes I'm afraid you are." I sighed at her response

"Granger, is she..." I began

"Oh yes, she's doing much better. Fluer is quite the healer you know." no actually I didn't, "She's sleeping now, the only thing she can't seem to heal is her arm."

Bellatrix's knife carving _mudblood_ into Grangers arm played through my head. " You won't be able to heal it, not completely anyway, that knife was cursed. Any cut made with it will become a scar, irremovable by magical or muggle means."

For the first time since she walked in Lovegood looked sad.

"Are you sure?" she asked

"Yes." I couldn't look her in the eye

"Well, thank you Draco, that is very helpful, I'd better go tell Fluer, she's wasting her time. Here," she said handing me the rag,"I'll be back in a moment, and I'll try to get you a clean shirt."

I managed a quite "thank you" before she nodded and left the room and I was left alone again.

Not knowing what else to do I pulled off my jacket and shirt and began trying to rid my bare torso of Grangers blood. The disgust that used to be so present with the thought her wasn't there anymore, in it's place was the heavy feeling of guilt instead.

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**20 respect points each to blackcurrent, dracos devilx, Meredith Sinclair, tjw1989, Gryphengirl, caazyreal, Bianca the crazy slytherin, and RVDLegsTrish for their comments. And another 20 to everyone who favorited and followed. **

**So as always comment and tell me what you thought. I'll do my best to update soon but like I said Im doing this on my tablet. and just fyi writting something this long on a tablet sucks! Untill next time littleviolentone**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay so I had fun with this one if only because I got to describe a shirtless Draco in detail. Yummy!**

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**I, once again, own nothing.**

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I woke up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. The novelty of which was gone the moment my memories broke through the haze of sleep. Then the unfamiliar was no longer novel but sinister, and I hurried to throw off the covers.

Suddenly there were hands on my arms, stilling my movements, which only made me struggle harder.

"Stop! Hermione, stop! Stop!" the voice was quiet but insistent, and completely at odds with what my panicked mind told me I should be hearing from a captor. "Hermione you're safe now! You're safe!"

My eyes focused on Harry and I went still. I stared unbelieving into his bright green eyes for a moment longer, before I allowed myself to relax back into the mattress. Harry's hold on my wrist was like iron but he was gentle enough not to hurt me.

"That's right, it's me, Hermione. It's Harry." he said gently, and I surged forward to wrap my arms around his neck. We stayed like that for a moment; him stroking my hair, while I clung to his shoulders and forced myself to remember that it was over.

When at last I pulled away and settled myself on the pillows, I noticed Ron for the first tie standing at the foot of the bed, and looking just as worried as he had when I sent him away. Harry brushed some hair behind my ear, while I smiled and held a hand out to Ron, inviting him closer. He sat opposite Harry next to my hip, and when I laid my hand along his jaw he smiled and wrapped his fingers around my bandaged arm.

I froze. Why was my arm bandaged? I remembered well what had happened to it, but Fleur should have healed it by now. I shouldn't need the bandages, my arm should be fine.

The boys noticed where I was looking and the smiles dropped from their faces. Ron moved my hand from where it was, to hold it gently in my lap like he was consoling me.

"My arm… I… why is.. " I stuttered weakly.

"Hermione," Harry started "Do you remember what happened?"

_Bellatrix Lastrange stood over me calling out the Cruciatas curse. Kneeling on my chest, her foul breath in my face as she opened up my skin. The pain. Silver._

"I remember." I whispered with closed eyes. I felt Harry's hand on my shoulder squeeze a little tighter.

"The knife that she- that Bellatrix was using was cursed. There's nothing to be done, Fleur tried for almost five hours, but there's no getting rid of it. You'll have a scar, Hermione, I'm so sorry." To his credit Harry's voice didn't waver until the very end.

Mudblood

I opened my eyes and pushed further up the headboard to sit up straighter.

_**Mudblood**_

I would spend the rest of my life, however short that was, forever marked as a _mudblood._ I pulled my hand out of Ron's to brush angrily at the tears I felt at my cheeks.

"There were other people at the Manor too," said Ron apparently needing to change the subject. "Dean, Mr. Ollivander, Luna, and a goblin, uh, what's his name?"

"Griphook?" Harry supplied

"Right, Griphook. Anyway they're all here now-"

"How did you know?" I said still not raising my voice to a normal volume.

"What?" it was Harry who answered.

"You said that Bellatrix's knife was cursed. How did you know?" I restated looking down at my white wrapped arm.

"Luna was downstairs talking to Malfoy. He told her, and she told Fleur." Was Harry's somber reply.

"Malfoy's here?" I asked startled

Ron and Harry exchanged concerned glances, before Ron pointed to me with a jerk of his chin; _tell her._

"Hermione," Harry spoke slowly. "Malfoy disarmed Bellatrix when she had her knife to your throat, and when Dobby came you got hold of him and brought him with us."

It all came back then. The shield, which gave at least a moment of reprieve, his eyes, the only part of his face that showed his pain. The spell that saved my life at the cost of his mothers', and my blood soaking his collar once we landed here.

Suddenly I couldn't stay there anymore, I started kicking off the blankets in earnest and clambered to my feet. Ron and Harry, both, tried to pull me back down, but I twisted away on unsteady legs and ran for the door. I more stumbled down the stairs then ran and crashed into an unsuspecting Luna.

"Hermione! Well it's nice to see you're feeling better." She said with a genuine smile. Behind me I heard the boys clatter to a stop on the landing.

"Bloody hell! Hermione don't scare us like that!" yelled Ron.

"I need to speak with him." I said to Luna, completely ignoring Ron's protesting shouts in response. She didn't need clarification on who 'he' was but simply nodded her head.

"I thought you might."

"Wait!", called Harry. He hurried down the last few steps and turned to Luna, "Stay with her, alright?"

"Of course." She answered.

I gritted my teeth at being treated like a child, but given that the alternative was Ron's suggestion I stayed quiet. Harry hurried up the stairs to head off Ron while Luna led me away.

"I won't if you don't want me to, you know." said the blond as we walked toward the back of the house.

"I'm sorry?" I said in confusion

"Stay with you I mean," she clarified " I'll leave if you'd prefer."

"Thank you Luna." I said with relief.

We had stopped then outside a pale yellow door. Luna shifted something that looked like a white tablecloth to her left hand and raised her right to knock. She rapped lightly twice before opening the door and strolling in without waiting for a reply.

I followed a few paces behind Luna, suddenly feeling something close to shyness, I kept my eyes on the floor.

"Hello, Draco!" said Luna. The familiarity with which she said this startled me into raising my gaze, and what I saw there left me speechless.

A few paces in front of Luna Malfoy stood with his back to us, his bare back. His shoulders sloped away from his neck pleasantly, much broader than I had expected them to be. The symmetrical bulges across his back were cut neatly in half by the valley of muscle created by his spine. His waist tapered down to narrow hips where his black trousers gave a pleasing contrast to his pale skin.

"Hello Lovegood" he said noticeably less comfortable with the familiarity. As he turned, his head still bent over the work in his hands, I came to the conclusion that he was a deceptively large man and the front of him was just as impressive as the back. He had always seemed rather slim at school, but slim in no way described the specimen in front of me. He wasn't as big as Ron was, but then again few people could match Ron in sheer size. They were even in height, but whereas Ron was bulky and big, Malfoy was compact and controlled, his size at odds with the grace that governed his movements.

He looked up from what I assumed was his shirt, that he'd been scrubbing, saw me and went still. Across his neck and chest there were the remains of my blood from where I had grabbed him. It was smeared and thin where he had tried to wipe it away. His silver eyes fixed on me and I saw neither anger nor disgust in them, instead I saw sorrow, and… guilt?

Luna said something then that I didn't really catch before handing Malfoy the cloth in her hand and turning to leave stopping just long enough to squeeze my arm and promise that she'd be right outside if I needed her before she was gone.

Malfoy shook out, what I now recognized as a white t-shirt, pulled it quickly over his head and crossed his arms self-consciously. The last move confused me until I saw the edge of his mark on the inside of his fore arm. He was ashamed of it, I realized.

We continued to stare at each other until I couldn't stand it anymore?

"Thank you." He blinked at me in surprise.

"What?"

"I said, thank you." I repeated

"I know. But, I guess I was expecting a 'why' or an interrogation of my motives, or something." He said helplessly.

"I _do_ want to know why," I said "But I wanted to thank you first."

"Well then… your welcome- I guess." He looked down and shifted his feet. "Granger I-" but he never got to finish his sentence, because Ron picked that moment to storm through the door with Harry, Bill, and Luna in tow, and shove Malfoy against the far wall.

"Just what do you think you're playing at, Malfoy!" Ron bellowed in his face.

Malfoy opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak Ron had pulled back his fist and crashed it into Malfoy's nose with a sickening crunch. Malfoy let out a yell and dropped to the ground then everyone exploded into motion.

"Ron!" I yelled as I found myself on my knees by his side next to Luna.

Bill and Harry were struggling to hold Ron back from charging again.

"Get away from him!" Ron yelled to Luna and I

"Why!" I challenged, and I saw Ron's neck chord in response

"Because he's a deatheater!"

"No he isn't!" the fact that _Luna_ was yelling was almost as shocking as what she yelled. Ron sputtered in shock for a moment before he was able to respond.

"Don't be stupid, of course he is, Luna! He's got a mark right there on his arm!"

I finally lost my temper, if Draco was hiding something we would find out but until we did, he was still the man that saved my life and Ron was simply being pig headed and over protective.

"Look at it Luna,_ there's a mark on his arm!"_

"SO WHAT!" I screamed and lifted up my bandaged arm "I've got one too!"

Everyone went silent and I could feel all eyes on me, and I stayed strong, kneeling in front of my enemy brandishing my wound to my best friend. The color drained from Ron's face and he managed to speak one quiet, shocked word;

"Hermione"

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**So give me your thoughts on what you think should happen next and I'll try to work it into the next chapter. Shout out to Gryphengirl for her continued support! And honestly isn't it fun to picture Draco shirtless :D.**

**love, **

** littleviolentone**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm back with another chapter, and I just have to take a minute to tell you guys how awesome you are! I now have over 1,700 views! So I am giving all of you 300 respect points a piece:) Ok,now I've done my best to make this chapter both longer and more indepth with Draco's character and hopefully it doesn't suck. **

**Be warned; This chapter contains swear words, if that bothers you; change the filters on your search because your in the wrong section.**

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**Disclaimer: Haven't we been over this already?**

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"So what? I've got one too!" I heard Granger scream from my place on the floor.

I didn't bother to wipe at the blood as it dripped down my chin and mingled with what was left of Grangers at my collarbone, it was too I was forced to lift my head at her impassioned speech in my defense. By both her words and Lovegoods' fingers tightening on my arm.

What I saw there was no less shocking than her words. There was Granger, not three inches away, kneeling infront of me brandishing her ruined arm in my defense. I stared from the back of Grangers curly head to a bloodless-faced Weasley.

To his left was a man with equally pale skin and red hair, they shared so many physical traits, they had to be brothers. This, I assumed, was Bill. To his right was Potter, who looked only marginaly more stable.

"Hermione..." Weasley's tone was so quiet and wounded that I was tempted to feel sorry for him, untill my nose started throbbing. Granger for her part didn't move.

"Hermione, that's not the same and you no it. He. Is. A. Deatheater." he made each word a sentence, as if talking down to her would make her understand. I felt Lovegood move beside me, but Weasley held up his hand before she could speak."Don't Luna. Hermione, he wanted you taken into the Chamber of Secrets, we heard him."

I jerked in surprise -how could he have heard that- but didn't have time for much else as he was still talking.

"He wanted Buckbeak dead, he got Hagrid sent to Azkaban. He worked with Rita Skeeter _and_ Umbridge! Damn it, Hermione! Breaking Harry's nose was the kindest thing he did last year! Not to mention all the near death expirences he caused, including mine, were all in an attempt to kill Dumbledore. Who, incidently, would have survived if he hadn't let deatheaters into the school!" he was shouting again, Potter and his brother had blatantly tightened their grip on him once more.

Granger was on her feet, albeit unsteadly, the moment Weasley had cursed at her, and was now taking a protective stance infront of me.

"I am well aware of his crimes, Ronald. So don't you dare talk down to me. I know-"

"No!" Weasley screamed, cutting her off. "No, you don't! Because if you did I wouldn't have to explain it!" he had broken free from his human restraints and rushed at us, and everyone but Grange flinched looked so incensed, that I honestly thought he would hit her. but his hands, when he gripped her upper arms, were incongruously gentle.

Potter apparently noticed as well, because even though he and Bill were poised to restrain him, they made no move to touch him. Though he was no longer shouting, Granger gave an almost imperceptible jump when Weasley spoke agian.

"He's lied about everything. And now, all of a sudden, he has a change of heart and decides to save your life? Does that not seem a little bit fishy?"

"Of course Ro-" he cut her off again

"You are compassionate to a fault, love. Do you really think one good deed and his mum's death is enough of a reason to defend him?"

I felt a flash of anger burn down my spine at his flippant mention of my mother, and opened my mouth to speak. But before I could inform him of how little a right he had to talk about her, I was cut off by Lovegood's nails digging into my shoulder.

I turned my head to tell her off and saw that the dizzy, vague, look was gone from her face. In it's place was a surprising amount of focus, all of which was directed at me. Her eyes were wide with a warning, that I interpreted to mean; shut up if you want to live. When I did nothing in response she contracted her nails further into my skin. I winced and glared but, upon seeing the genuine concern for me in her eyes, I gave a grudging nod. Our entire, ten second, exchange went unnoticed by our companions in the little room.

"You weren't there, Ronald." Granger said so coldly that Weasley let her go as if she really were made of ice. "You weren't the one bleeding out on a deatheater's floor. I know you would have taken my place if you could have," she added gently, " but the fact remains that you weren't there. So you didn't see what I saw."

"What do you mean?" Potter stepped up, level with Weasley. With one last look at him, Granger turned to answer Potter's question.

"She wanted to know how we got the sword." I noticed her refusal to say my aunt's name. "She said she had it in her vault at Gringotts, she wanted to know what else we had taken and how we got it out." she gave the last sentence a significant stress, to which Potters' eyebrows shot up, but she kept talking "She was using the Cruciatas curse. She kept asking but I didn't tell her, Harry! I didn't break!" she was visibly shaking as she said this.

"Hermione it's-" Potter began and moved to embrace her, but she took a step back out of his reach before cutting him off.

"Let me finish!" Potter nodded and dropped his hands. "I didn't beak, Harry. But I should have. My tolerance to pain isn't that high, and she had me long enough to make anyone talk. I could feel myself giving up Harry!" Potter moved to hold her again, and this time she didn't fight it.

I knew exactly what she was going to say next. And my previous strategy of staying silent and invisible left when Slytherin reserve kicked in, telling me not to anyone else know about my first intervention on her behalf.

"Granger," I rasped, "don't..." I let the sentence hang when I felt Lovegoods' nails again.

All eyes were now on me and they were reluctant to leave, even when Granger called me by name.

"They need to know Draco, I'm sorry." and with that she turned back to Potter "When the next curse hit I should have broken, but I didn't because it didn't hurt as much as the others."

Potter held her at arms length, to look her in the eyes, and I could feel my pulse shift into overdrive.

"What do you mean, Hermione, how is that possible?"

"I didn't know at first, but when I looked at Draco,- He never looked away from me, and everyone else was looking anywhere but at me. And he had his wand out, but it was hidden down by his side with the tip still glowing."

"Hermione, what are you saying?"

"He was shielding me from the brunt of the curse! He's the reason all your secrets are safe! He's the reason I'm even alive to tell you that they are!" I turned my gaze to the floor but I could still feel the weight of five sets of eyes on me. "I don't know why he did it Ron. And I intend to find out, but I owe him my life, and gratitude, if nothing else. So until an ulterior motive is found, I _will_ be grateful."

There was a solid minute where the only motion was Lovegood sliding her hand to my opposite shoulder in something like an embrace, which was far more soothing than I was willing to admit.

"And we're just supposed to take his word for it? That his intentions are pure?"

"Of course not." Granger answered

"Then how do we find out?" Weasley challenged

"Legilimency" Bill spoke up for the first time, and everyone turned to look at him. "I got pretty good at it in Egypt, it comes up more often than you'd think in curse breaking. Give me a few hours alone with him, and I'll be able to tell you any secrets he's hiding."

"Alright." his brother said, and with one last murderous look at me, he left the room. One by one they all did, until the only ones left were Bill, Luna, and I.

"Luna, you need to leave." Bill said sternly

Luna nodded and pulled me to my feet. Then, in an unexpected move, threw her arms around me in a, surprisingly strong, hug. She took the moment to whisper in my ear.

"Don't fight it. It'll only cause you more pain, and make you look guilty." here she squeezed me tighter, "You have a chance to avenge her Draco. Don't waste it." she pulled away and gave me an indecipherable look, and then she was gone.

I stood motionless for a moment, my arms still slightly raised from my sides in my indecision over weather or not to hug her back, before the heavy thud of Bill's boots brought me back to the situation at hand. I could feel my emotionless mask snap into place as I righted myself. We regarded each other like predator and prey. When he was just out of arms reach he stopped coming forward, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. As if an unarmed, traumatized, grieving man could cause any harm to a fully trained Gringotts curse breaker with a wand.

"I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, for Harry and Hermione. But if I find anything, and I mean _anything, _brings your motives into doubt, I. Will. End. You." he didn't come across as condescending like his brother had, he was just intimidating.

"If what Hermione said is true, then there's hope for you, and I'm willing to find it. But I won't have an active deatheater near my little brother, and I _won't_ have one near my wife. Are we clear?" his tone was clipped and business-like, and everything about him, from his stance to the angle he held his head at, left me with no doubts that he would make good on his threat. I nodded my head.

"Very well then. Let's get started." he gestured, authoritatively, to the chair indicating that I should sit down. Every nerve and instinct in my body told me not to give this man any more power over me than he already had. In the span of half a day I had seen torture, lied to protect my enemies, held my dying mother in my arms, and then been saved by the girl I had terrorized for almost seven years. To say I was emotionally bankrupt was the understatement of the fucking century.

The shattered remnants of my pride told me not to let him, or anyone, see my pain. But Luna's word came to mind, _vengeance._ The image of my aunt, dead and bloody as my mother was, strengthen my resolve. So after a second of hesitation I sat down, and did my best to calm my heart rate.

The other man gave me a calculating look, and pulled out his wand.

"Legilimens."

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The next few hours were filled with pain as I was forced to relive every hellish memory I had from that morning to back before the start of fourth year.

"Keep that big bushy head of yours down Granger!"

Then I was alone in my head again, I was dimly aware of being helped from the floor and back into a chair before Bill spoke.

"That is one disturbingly fucked up family"

I chuckled darkly at his blunt observation. "That's putting it mildly." and the last thing I saw before I blacked out was my mothers' face as she died.

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Over the next few days a pattern developed.

Bill wouldn't let me stay in my room, and the cottage wasn't that big. Bill had told everyone that I could be trusted, but that hardly meant I expected a warm welcome. And I didn't receive one, when ever I entered a room all conversation would stop Potter tried to talk, but quite frankly it was just awkward. Weasley and Thomas would just get up and leave. And Granger, all she did was sit in the corner of what ever room I was in, hold her arm to her chest, and stare at me.

Only Luna seemed to feel comfortable around me. Then came the nighttime, dinner was full of awkward silences, death glares from Weasley, and endless friendly prattle from Luna. And when everyone went to sleep I would stay up and wash my hands, convinced I could still smell the blood on them, all the while my mothers ghost stared silently on. And in the morning it all began again.

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**Okay, it's 12:19, my hands are cramped from typing, and I'm pretty sure I've locked up my back. But the chapter is done, so, yay!**

**As always, there's more stuff coming soon so review and send in ideas!**

**littleviolentone **


	6. Chapter 6

**I am so so so so sorry I haven't updated, but school let out and there were graduation parties, and then the notebook that I brainstorm my stories in got lost so I had to start this chapter from scratch. and then to top it all off, I just heard that Matt Smith is leaving Doctor Who, which is very depressing.**

**But all the same there is really no excuse for keeping you guys waiting so long, and I can only hope that I still have readers. Again, so sorry!**

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**Disclaimer: Nope**

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I spent the next few days dividing my time between building my strength, helping Harry plan his break-in to Gringotts, and watching Draco.

Harry was doing his best to forget the past and include Draco in conversations, to which he responded with monosyllabic answers and blank haunted eyes. Ron, having found an ally in Dean, refused to be in the same room with him if he could help it and the two would storm angrily away. Not that Draco seemed to care. Bill, and Fleur at her husbands insistence, were polite but distant. Mr. Ollivander and Griphook were the only ones spared the awkwardness as they never left their upstairs rooms.

Luna seemed not to noticed the awkwardness at all, the way she followed Draco around chatting about nargles as if they were old friends. The only time he seemed even vaguely alive however, is when Luna was near so no one felt the need to stop her.

She was constantly encouraging me to talk to him. Saying that he could do with more friends and one less thing to feel guilty about. And I wanted to, I really did. But despite Luna's words, something always held me back. I'd walk into a room he was in, sometimes looking for him sometimes not, but the second I saw him my words failed. I would curl in on myself, holding my arm to my chest, and watch him, my mind a jumble of confusion, suspicion, fear, and gratitude.

And I would stare at him as I tried to puzzle out all the questions that he and his actions presented. But as often as I watched him he never looked at me.

Dinner was always stressed and uncomfortable, but night was the worst. Luna and I slept on two transfigured beds in a little parlor, right next to Draco's room. The only reason he got his own is because no one wanted to risk keeping Ron and Draco in the same room.

At night Draco never rested. My bed was pushed against the common wall of our two rooms which gave me more than enough opportunity to hear his nightly ritual.

I would hear his footsteps first, that signaled the start of his pacing. Then the murmuring began. I never could hear what he started off saying, but as the speed of his pacing increased so did his volume. I would hear him apologizing over and over again. The footsteps would stop, but his voice continued, and he would beg forgiveness from some unknown being. When his voice went hoarse he would stop, and would be silent until the next day.

Four days passed in this same pattern. I didn't mention Draco's nightly behavior to Luna, and if she was aware of it, she gave no sign. However, on the fifth day, his pacing was cut off by the sound of his falling.

And instead of his slow crescendo of apologies, his voice came loud and broken, asking a new question.

"What do you want from me? Go away! Please, go away! I'm sorry Mother." he paused as if expecting a reply "Why don't you answer? What do you want from me?!"

I didn't think as I left my bed and rushed to his door. I didn't stop to knock, but rushed through the door and into a seemingly empty room. At his moaned "I'm sorry!" I turned and found him on the ground to the right of the door. His eyes were wide and completely oblivious to me. He seemed to be trying to wedge his big body even further into the corner, trying to escape whatever it was he saw.

"Draco," I said dropping to my knees in front of him "Draco, calm down. There's no one there." he didn't even see me, just continued his ramblings.

I leaned forward and took his face in my hands, forcing his eyes to meet mine, and for the first he spoke to me instead of his poltergeist.

"She's still there Granger." his pupils were the size of saucers, "She won't leave, and I can't get the blood off my hands!" he whispered urgently. I looked down to his perfectly clean hands, and then back to his terrified face.

"Whose blood Draco?" I said calmer than I felt.

"Mother's, it's why she won't leave! It's why she's still there!" I turned around, slowly surveying the empty room, when it hit me. His guilt was driving him to torment himself with a hallucination of his dead mother.

It was hardly unheard of, neither was imagining the presence of blood still on his hands. Traumatized people often focused their fear or pain on an outward tormentor. The only question was; how to get through to him?

His gaze drifted over my head, seeing something that wasn't there, and began wiping his hands on his trousers, chanting; "It won't come off, it won't come off."

Upon hearing his words my mind made a sudden connection to a story I'd read, and I saw the scene play out but in Macbeth's place my mind cast Draco.

"Whence is that knocking?" I quoted to myself, "How is't with me when every noise appalls me?" Draco's eyes slowly returned to mine, and I seized on an idea.

"What hands are here? Ha! They pluck out mine eyes. Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red." By the time I finished reciting, Draco's hand had gone still and his eyes focused on me.

"There's no one here but us, Draco." I said after a moment. His pupils were slowly contracting back to a normal size.

"No one here." he repeated. I nodded in conformation. "Was it my fault, Granger?" he asked me, sounding closer to seven than seventeen.

"She made her own decisions Draco." I said gently "If your places were reversed, would you want her to torment herself so?"

"No." he mumbled

"She did what she did out of love, and no sacrifice made in love is ever made in vain. Whatever it is you're seeing Draco, it's not your mother." He shut his eyes and began inhaling and exhaling deeply. There was a moment when I thought he would cry but it passed, and when he opened his eyes again he looked almost normal.

We held each others eyes for a moment before he looked down. I followed his gaze and saw, with surprise, that our hands were clasped and our fingers woven together. I realized I must have shifted my grip from his face to his hands with out noticing. We let go of each other simultaneously, but didn't move away. His breathing was still heavy, and his eyes still a little wild, but he was calming. As we stared at each other I once again felt the need to find answers. but as always his eyes gave nothing away.

"You're doing it again." he rasped after a few moments.

"Doing what?" I asked. Neither one of us was speaking above a whisper.

"Staring at me." he answered "You have been for days."

"Does that bother you?" I asked, though the answer was clear enough in his tone.

"Yes." in that one word I heard a flash of the old Malfoy pride

"Why?" I pushed, aware of the many different ways this could end badly

"Because I'm not a side-show spectacle!" he shouted, rising to his feet. He stepped easily over my body, still blocking him in the corner, and took two strides into the center of the room before turning to face me. "I know you hate me, but please, find some other way to torture me! I get enough of being stared at, at night."

I mentally cursed myself for not making that connection when I walked in the room. Of course my staring would bother him if that's how he saw his mother! I stood and walked forward to match him, though the differences in our heights bordered on comical. The warning that this could end any number of dangerous ways sounded in my head again, but I couldn't shake the feeling that a push was what he needed. And if some small part of me felt pleasure at his anger, so be it.

"Despite what you may think, I don't hate you and I'm not torturing you. And keep your voice down, people are sleeping." I said evenly. Draco's eyebrows hit his hairline as he gave me a look of complete and utter disbelief.

"You don't hate me?" I shook my head in conformation, "Then what the hell is all the staring for!"

"Just trying to figure you out." my answer only seemed to confuse him more. He stepped up, toe to toe with me, and lifted me by the arms closer to his face. My feet nearly left the floor, and my heartbeat quickened as I was doused in molten silver.

"There's nothing to figure out! We hate each other, have since we met!" he whispered harshly, his breath hitting my cheeks as he spoke.

"It doesn't matter, Draco." the words came out breathy and wavered, much to my chagrin.

He gave an incredulous, half-hysterical, laugh and asked; "Why not?"

"It doesn't matter; what you've done, what you've planned, what you've said. None of that matters anymore because," I took a steadying breath " because I forgive you."

I had expected a strong reaction, for him to yell or laugh at me, or ask me questions, but he didn't. Instead I saw his eyes flare wide for a split second, before he crashed his lips into mine.

...

_Draco's POV_

I don't know why I kissed her then, maybe it was the, unexpectedly overwhelming, feeling of relief that followed her words. Or the sense that, for the first time in a long time, I felt human. I only knew that her lips were soft and warm, and her gasp of surprise was oddly comforting, and that as long as I was here I could forget what I'd done.

I moved my hands from where they gripped her upper arms, to tangle in her wild hair and push at the small of her back so as to hold her against me. After a second of hesitation I felt her respond to the kiss and her hands fluttered on my arms, unsure of what to do. This small victory sent a jolt of possessiveness and pure masculine pride burning through my system. It wasn't until I swept my tongue into her mouth to deepen the kiss, that she truly gave in wrapping her arms around my neck.

She was straining up on her toes to meet me, her little moans and sighs clouding over all my darker thoughts until nothing remained, save her. I growled as her fingernails scraped my scalp, sending a shiver down my spine. It wasn't a gentle kiss, it was rough and brutal. Full of teeth and tongue and hair pulling, and she gave as good as she got.

At some point she had gotten her hands under my shirt, and her slender fingers were running up and down my sides. I returned the favor by bunching up the fabric of her tank-top and losing myself in the texture of her skin. I ran my hands from her waist to her hips and pushed, walking her quickly back into the wall. She hit it with a quiet bang that caused her to pull back from the kiss in shock. Her eyes were swallowed by her pupils, as I'm sure mine were as well, and even in the bleached grey light of my room I could see a flush spreading from her cheeks to below the collar of her pajamas.

"Draco," she breathed raggedly "If you want to punish the people responsible for this, then help us." she coaxed, running her fingers through my hair.

I felt my eyes roll back in my head and I had to pause a moment as my ability to form coherent sentences slowly reformed.

"Hermione," I whispered, tracing my fingertips along her jaw and cheekbone. But before I could finish a door opened and closed above us, followed by the footsteps of some one upstairs. We both looked up at the sound, and when our eyes met again it was as though a spell had broken. By some unspoken agreement we began untangling ourselves from each other, she released my shoulders as I lowered her down to stand flat on her feet again, but we didn't step away.

"Alright." I answered the request she'd said what felt like a lifetime ago.

She looked absolutely confused and I could already see her mind overthinking everything that had just happened, but she nodded her consent before she ducked under the arm that I had braced against the wall and all but ran from the room. Which left me with a single, flooring, thought.

I had just kissed Hermione Granger.

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**Ok, so I hope that makes up for the long wait, and I really hope I'm not just typing to nothing now!**

**If you're not nothing please review and tell me what you thought, I got almost no reviews last chapter and it really is discouraging, sooo... please :D**

**littleviolentone**


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok. First things first, I haven't updated since the third, sorry. In my defense I have had the flu, but still sorry. Also a quick shout-out to some of the ****_awesome_**** folks who reviewed;**

**Fitz Darcy****-yes there is more. ****Mai****-Thank you for breaking your habit and reviewing. Also I got both your reviews and let me just say you are freakin' adorable! ****Ch 1yom1****- There is a point to the cliff-hangers. ****puffballs365****-I don't know what "Llama mama" means but I'm glad you enjoy it. Also, respect points for your awesome phrasing. ****LoveableLeo****-Thanks for hanging around! I'm happy people are enjoying it.**

**Now, ON WITH THE SHOW!**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own a damn thing.**

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It had taken Hermione almost three hours to convince Potter and Weasley to agree to let me help in whatever they were planning. But, eventually, she led me into a room where I was met with an uncomfortable Potter and a glaring ginger.

I couldn't pretend to be anymore comfortable with this than they were, if anything I was more so. I didn't know what had possessed me to kiss Hermione last night, or why she had kissed me back, or what to make of this boiling mess of emotions left in her wake. Nor did I know when she had gone from Granger to Hermione, but that was the least of my concerns. The only thing I was absolutely certain of; was that last might was the most peaceful night I'd had since the start of sixth year. Even so, I had no idea how her. Thankfully, she seemed to feel the same because other than a blush and a refusal to look me in the eye, she completely ignored what had transpired the night before, and that suited me just fine.

She walked me into the main living room and sat down on the sofa next to a stiff Potter, who was doing his best to be cordial. I suppose I should have been greatful for this attempt at civility. Weasley remained standing, leaning on the mantel, and making no bones about his distrust of me, and I honestly didn't care in the slightest. I sat down mechanicly in an armchair across from Potter and waited. He regarded me silently for a moment longer before clearing his throat to begin.

"Hermione says that you're willing to help us." it wasn't a question, so I nodded in lue of an answer. "Bill is certain that you've got no hidden agendas, and I believe him, but I've got no reason to trust you."

I nodded again.

"Even so, I'm willing to give you a chance." Potter's voice was quiet, but there was a steel in it when he spoke, very clearly implying the threats he hadn't vocalized. We regarded each for one long moment.

"What do you need my help with?" I asked with a great deal more confidence than I felt. The Golden Trio exchanged significant glances, as if they hadn't expected me to actually agree.

"We're looking for... things-items of significance to you-know-who," Potter began "these things are the key to bringing him down. They, uh..."

Hermione picked up when it became clear that Potter wasn't sure what to say next.

"The items in question, are made by very dark, powerful magic. The only chance Harry has to defeat you-know-who is to destroy these objects first, if we don't he won't die," she said in the clipped tone she always used to recite text-book answers for our teachers at school.

I felt my blood run cold even at their vague description, I knew there was only one thing it could be.

"Horcruxes." I said with disgust. I looked up to Potter to confirm my suspicions and was met with three shocked faces. It is horcruxes, isn't it?" I asked, darkly.

"Yes, but-how do you know about them? There's almost no published information on the subject." Hermione stuttered.

I was almost tempted to laugh, but Weasley's face kept it at bay, how quickly she forgot my past.

"My father has been a proud deatheater since day one Granger," I said bitterly " and the Malfoy library is second only to Hogwarts. 'Magik Most Evil' and 'Secrets of the Darkest Arts' were required reading during my summers. And just before you ask; No, I didn't know the Dark Lord had made a horcrux, though it seems pretty obvious in retrospect." she sat there, stunned for a moment before, true to form, she had another question ready.

"Do you have any idea what any of the horcruxes could be?" I didn't answer her question, as one of my own occurred.

"Wait, you're saying he made more than one?" Hermione nodded.

"Actually he made six." said Potter from his place on the sofa.

"Six!" that wasn't possible, the thought made me sick, "Holy hell!" my words were whispered and hoarse.

"Three have already been destroyed," said Hermione. I felt my eyebrows hit my hairline in shock, but she was talking again before I could ask questions "and we're almost positive we know where the fourth one is. The only problem is how to get to it." she was positively buzzing with some unknown tension.

"what do you mean?" I asked warily. She and Potter exchanged a glance before turning back to me. Weasley kept his eyes resolutely on the floor.

"How much do you know about the security your aunt has on her vault at Gringotts?" shock could not begin to describe one tenth of how I felt in that moment. I swept my eyes between the three of them, waiting for someone to say 'gotcha!'

"Are you out of your bleeding mind?" my words were directed at Hermione even though it had been Potter who had spoken. "That's you're plan? Go break in to one of the most secure places in the wizarding world, in the middle of Diagon Alley. Where, by the way, every single wall is plastered with Harry Potter wanted posters and every single person is desperate enough to turn you in on sight, despite their morals. And then you want to steal some unknown object from the vault of a woman who, not only tortured you into a state of delirium and would be happy to do so again, but who also works for the darkest wizard in history. Who just so happens to be immortal and have a personal vendetta against your best friend. Have I left anything out!?" by the end of my rant I was on my feet shouting at the three of them.

"Draco, we need this, the whole world needs us to do this. This is how we take him down." said Hermione, rising to match my stance, just as she had done last night. I pushed that thought away.

"It's impossible, Granger." I said, needing to get this through her head, "Even if you could break in and get it without getting yourselves killed, you'd never make it out. It's just not possible."

"Says who?" she asked with a challenging tilt to her chin. I felt anger bubble in my chest then; I did not go through hell to save her life just so she could go commit suicide by goblin!

"Says logic, that's who!" I snapped, aware of just how juvenile we sounded.

"Really. The same logic that says it's impossible to survive the killing curse?" she argued, gesturing wildly at Potter who had to duck to avoid being clipped in the chin.

"Well we can't all be the boy The Boy Who Lived now, can we?" I retorted. She opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Weasley speaking for the first time from his place by the mantel.

"Just drop it Hermione, he's not going to help. You're wasting your breath."

"Ron, he knows more about, her, than we do," she gave only the slightest cringe in reference to my aunt, "he may be able to get us in. And he hasn't said he wouldn't help, that was you." Weasley turned an odd shade of red at her words.

"We don't need his help!" he yelled.

"Yes Ronald! We do!" she matched him, "We need all the help we can get and you know it."

His jaw clenched and a vein in his neck pulsed as he shook his head and looked away. Hermione watched him for a second longer before turning back to me.

"Please, Draco. Will you help us?" She took a step closer than was needed and looked up at me through chocolate colored lashes. Her skin was pale gold with a light dusting of freckles across her nose. I knew her lips well from last night, and her whisky colored eyes burned me with their overflow of emotion.

"Do you even know what it is you're looking for?" I asked in a last ditch effort at resistance. She gave me one word in response;

"Please."

...

It took a few more minutes of convincing before I agreed. Even though it had been decided by her one word, and that scared me. My whole life I'd been told that people like her were worthless, yet in the span of five days she was able to get me to join her suicide mission by batting her eyelashes and saying please. I'd heard about situations where a kidnapping victim, to cope, would delude themselves into thinking they were in love with their captor. Stockholm Syndrome, I thought it was called. I wasn't exactly kidnapped, but I needed something to explain my disturbing behavior. This was _Granger _after all, the annoying little know-it-all who broke my nose in third year. Admitting she wasn't sub-human was one thing, but this? I vowed to myself, then and there, to gain back my control. I may not have hated her anymore, but she was still irritating, our argument was evidence of that.

When we were again in our respective seats, or in Weasley's case sulking by the fireplace, I cleared my throat and turned to Potter.

"So what's your plan then?" He shifted uncomfortably and fixed his glasses before answering.

"The short version? Polyjuice, transfigureation, invisibility cloak." When I didn't respond with more than an arched eyebrow he went on. "When Bellatrix had Hermione, she was looking for something."

"Something she thought you had taken from her vault, I remember." Potter nodded, "And you think the thing she went so mad over is a horcrux."

"Right." he answered, "It would make sense, she's pureblood, one of his most loyal followers, and devoted enough to be trusted with something like that." while he was paused momentarily for breath, Hermione took over, and I saw him fight off a fond eye-roll.

"We are certain she has a horcrux, but as you pointed out, Gringotts is a fortress. Breaking in would be impossible, so our solution is not to break in but to be let in." she didn't pause long enough to see my confusion. "As Harry said, our first weapon is polyjuice potion. We have Lestrange's hair, and more importantly her wand. I will impersonate her to gain access to the vault, Ron will be disguised with transfiguration, and Harry will be under the invisibility cloak with Griphook."

My mind was whirling at her explanation. That she was willingly going to impersonate a woman whose name she couldn't hear without cringing. I had so many questions, but the one that left my lips was a confused;

"Who?"

"The goblin you had imprisoned at your house." Weasley spat from the wall.

"Right." said Hermione, brushing over any reply I'd had. "But here's where it gets complicated-"

"Oh, good!" I interrupted her, "For a second there, I thought it was going to be all pygmee puffs and pumpkin juice."

Potter gave a snort of laughter that was cut off when Hermione fixed us both with a reprimanding glare, before continuing.

"Griphook has agreed to help us on the condition that the sword of Gryffindor be returned to the goblins, however the sword is our only means of destroying the horcruxes." she paused to see if I was following.

"And there in lies the problem." I said.

"Exactly. Once we have the horcrux, Griphook expects us to give up the sword, but we still have two others to kill. We've had to agree to his terms, but-"

"But you don't plan on following through." I finished. She made a face and nodded in agreement.

"What we need you for is, partially, to help us blend in when we're outside the bank, and, more importantly, to help with whatever security your aunt has on her vault."

"What makes you think I'd know it?" I asked, "We weren't exactly close."

"Of the four of us, you know her best. Her patterns, her default spells, you would have a better chance of guessing and identifying her work than we would." she explained. Damn her logic.

"And I'd, what, be going in there bare faced and unarmed?" I asked

"That was my suggestion, yeah." said Weasley with a cruel smirk, and I felt a flash of anger down my spine.

"Ron!" Hermione admonished.

"No no, Granger. It's fine," I said, "let his own take care of him, eh Weasley? Poetic justice? How very Slytherin of you."

In two strides he was across the room and leaning over my chair.

"I'M NO SNAKE!" he spat.

"Ron." said Potter. Just one word, not spoken harshly, or even very loud, but in that one word was the weight and authority of a man a thousand times his age. In that one word I heard a force to be reckoned with.

Weasley grumbled something unintelligible and stocked from the room.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the air as he left. After a moment Hermione spoke again, trying to get back on track.

"Th-the plan was for you to be disguised with transfiguration as well." she said quietly, "For obvious reasons we are a bit hesitant to give you your wand back, but we can't walk into Gringotts with you unarmed. You see our dilemma."

"You need me in order to pull this off, you've no reason to trust me with a wand." I summarized

"Yes," she answered awkwardly, "so Harry has come up with a solution." she and I both turned expectantly toward Potter.

"I'm not giving you your wand, I'll be using it since mine broke. You will have to make do with your mother's wand."

From his jumper pocket, he pulled the 9 1/4 inch, black and silver wand that was so familiar to me. I was overcome with grief and guilt but refused to let it show and focused on a question.

"What's the difference," I asked evenly, "who's to say you can trust me with this one?" Potter and Granger locked eyes and seemed to have some sort of conversation that ended with Potter giving a final-looking shake of his head.

"It's just better this way." was all he said before he excused himself to look for Weasley.

I drew a breath and turned to Hermione, but she stopped my unasked question with the raise of a hand.

"Don't ask, Draco. With Harry, there are things you just can't ask." she gave me a look I couldn't decipher before dropping her eyes to where her hands lay, knotted, in her lap.

"I just wanted to say that last night," her shoulders went rigid, "was the first time I haven't had nightmares since I got off the Hogwarts express last year." Wide, surprised, eyes found mine in a snap and I tracked the movement of her lips as she gasped without meaning to. I stayed slouched where I was in my chair, but I could have sworn that for a second I had seen her lean forward. But the moment passed before I could analyze it further.

"Draco I want to help you in anyway I can. But, last night was-it can't happen again. It would just cause too many problems." I knew she was thinking about Weasley. I wasn't surprised by her words at all, but that didn't make the sting any less.

"I agree," I said, "but even so, thank you." she didn't seem to know what to make of that so she nodded and mumbled something about helping Fleur with lunch as she all but ran from the room. A minute passed as I stared after her.

"Meeting adjourned." I said to the empty room, only to have my heart jump in my throat as the room seemingly answered back.

"I hadn't realized it was so official." I stood and spun around, finding Luna standing just inside the sliding glass door to the back porch.

"Luna!" I gasped "Damn you. You scared me half to death."

"Sorry about that." she said in that same dreamy tone that tricked everyone into thinking she was a fool. Despite Luna being my only positive human contact for a few days, I still had no idea how to start a conversation with her.

"So, what were you doing out there? Looking for nargles?" I asked awkwardly.

"No, they're all in the front of the house." she said

"Of course they are."

"I was waiting to speak with you." that shocked me a bit.

"So then I guess you heard-"

"No." she interrupted.

"Sorry, what?"

"I didn't hear you. There's been a silencing charm on the room since you got here" she explained

"Oh." I was relieved "Well the what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione are going to be leaving soon. I don't know when, I don't know why. And it doesn't really matter, I don't need to know, but now you're going with them."

"How did yo-"

"It wasn't difficult. But Draco, you need to be careful. You can't go taking silly risks because you think you've got nothing left to lose." her voice had taken on the lucid, slightly manic, tone she'd had when she warned me not to fight of Bill.

"What, exactly have I got to lose, Luna?" I asked "My mother's dead, by now my father's disowned me. Anyone I could have called friend are now, most likely under orders to kill me on sight, and everyone else hates me enough to kill me for their own reasons. So please, Luna, explain to me just what exactly it is that I risk losing now."

Her soft blue eyes went frigid in a way, I'd never seen before. I felt the sting of a slap so brutal it snapped my head around. Before my eyes had time to refocus, she had thrown her body into mine so fast it was all I could do to keep us upright. A full thirty seconds passed before I realized that she wasn't attacking but embracing me, and wrapped my arms around her in return.

"You are such an idiot." she breathed into my shoulder, then pulled back enough to look me in the eye. "Bill cares, so does Fleur, and Harry, even if you don't see it. Hermione cares more than you realize."

"Four people." I said sullenly, I wasn't convinced on Potter and Fleur, but Luna didn't lie. If I knew nothing else about her I knew that.

"Five." she corrected. I could only stare at her blankly. "Oh, my beautiful idiot."

And then without giving me time for a reaction, her lips were pressed against mine. Unlike Hermione's kiss, Luna's was gentle and hesitant, almost shy. I was frozen where I was with surprise as her lips moved against mine, and her hands clung tenderly to the back of my neck. But then as quickly as it began, she pulled away.

Her eyes searched my face, for what I didn't know, as she stood there still in my arms. And myself to surprised to move her.

"You're ashamed of your past failures, and feel guilt over your crimes. You hate the theocracy your father forced on you, but you don't know how else to think. You feel lost after your mothers death, and angry that you couldn't prevent it." Gently she stroked her thumb across my cheekbone as she laid out all the components of my inner turmoil, leaving me terrified of what she would say next, but incapable of making a sound to stop her.

"You feel so much hate, Draco. At your father, at Dumbledore, at Him. But above all, you hate yourself. Your filled with so much self loathing that you think you can never care for, or be cared for by anyone again. And worst of all you've convinced yourself you deserve it."

"Don't I though?" I was unaware that I had spoken until the words hit my ears.

"It doesn't matter anymore." she said echoing Hermione's words. " Because weather you deserve it or not, there are people here who care about you and I couldn't let you go until you knew it." With a stroke of her hand through my hair, she pulled away. She had reached the door to the main house before I found my voice once more.

"Luna, wait." she turned and looked at me expectantly.

"I really should get upstairs. Mr. Ollivander has a nargle infestation around his window and I promised I'd keep him company."

"But, why did you..." I trailed off, gesturing lamely to my mouth to finish the question.

She smiled. "Because what I had to tell you was important and you only seem to listen to drastic measures."

She waved and was out the door so fast that I was sure the glint of tears in the corner of her eyes were something I'd imagined.

* * *

**Yes I know they kissed. But don't worry this is still very much a dramione fic, I have a plan. As always review, send me ideas, and if you get the chance check out my new story Tempest in the Flight 29 Down category if you all like it I'll keep it going.**

**Love,**

**littleviolentone**


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